


I Want You To Myself Tonight

by donniedont



Series: Memes & Melancholia [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crushes, First Kiss, Hook-Up, Love Confessions, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transitioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedont/pseuds/donniedont
Summary: “Could I make an observation?” Dimitri said, “I promise it’s not a judgment.”“Sure,” Linhardt said, yawning.“Perhaps it’s also a bit of a question,” Dimitri said.  He typed something and leaned back.  He brought his arms over his head before he said, “Does that mean you have been… involved… with everyone in the chat?”Linhardt raised their eyebrows.  “No,” they replied, “Well… nearly everyone.  I still haven’t been with Caspar.”Linhardt is certain of their feelings toward Caspar.  Whether or not they act on them is a bit more up in the air.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Linhardt von Hevring
Series: Memes & Melancholia [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605781
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	I Want You To Myself Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skylark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/gifts).



> Thank you so much for checking out this fic! This would not be possible without the support of Andy and Ciry! You pushed me to write this fic, which I've wanted to write for over a year! I am also grateful for Joey, who took the time to edit this fic and be the cheerleading I needed!
> 
> **Content Warnings:** Discussions of sexual content, gender dysphoria, mention of transphobic views from family members

Linhardt realized very quickly that they didn’t account for Felix’s lack of interest in them staying the night.

It was a miscalculation that was the result of being too comfortable in the Blue Lions house. Any time they were involved with other people in the house, the invitation to stay over was implied. But Linhardt should have known that Felix wasn’t like Dimitri, who asked if he could take the side away from the wall, nor was he like Mercedes, who checked in on what they wanted for breakfast in the morning. Felix couldn’t care less.

“Have a good night,” Felix said brusquely before shutting the door in Linhardt’s face. Linhardt lingered in front of the door, listening to Felix shifting in his room, until they eventually heard him flopping back on his bed.

Linhardt smoothed the hem of their shirt before they walked away down the hall, lowering their head as they went to see if there was light emitting from the bottom of each door. They found a door quickly, smirking when he realized that it led to Dimitri’s room. They knocked on it, yawning as the door slowly opened up.

“Linhardt?” Dimitri asked. His voice was a low, rumbling whisper that unintentionally brought a chill down their spine.

“Felix didn’t want me to stay the night,” Linhardt explained.

Dimitri sighed, opening the door wider to let Linhardt in. He brought his hand behind his head, running it along the hair that had slipped out of his ponytail. “He tends to prioritize his sleep over his partner’s comfort, I’m afraid,” he said quietly. 

“Could I crash here?” Linhardt asked.

“Of course,” Dimitri replied.

Linhardt walked toward Dimitri’s bed, dropping their pants on the floor before they curled up in bed. They gathered the blankets around them, tugging a one of the fluffier ones from the pile and tossing it across their shoulders. As much as Dimitri’s room was a clichéd masculine mess of minimal furniture, piles of laundry piled up against a full bin, and a crooked dry erase board, it was warm. He had nice sheets, shockingly soft blankets, and an occasional memento from their friend group, usually in the form of inappropriate messages on the aforementioned dry erase board or a few overexposed Instax photos tucked in the frame of his mirror. 

Linhardt might have spent more time in this room than they realized.

Dimitri returned to his desk, the glow of his laptop being the only light source.

“Please tell me you’re at least doing something fun,” Linhardt murmured.

“I’m afraid not,” Dimitri replied. He propped his arm up on the desk and leaned his chin against it. “I’m working on a lesson plan for my job.” He sighed, tilting his head toward Linhardt. “You would probably have a more restful sleep if you were on the couch.”

“I have more space in this bed, even if you end up in it,” Linhardt pointed out.

Dimitri sighed, facing his computer. He typed in short bursts, highlighting sections and formatting them in ways that Linhardt didn’t quite understand.

“So… Felix,” Dimitri eventually said. There was a reverence in his voice that Linhardt didn’t want to investigate. The Dimitri and Felix dynamic, or what Linhardt was able to get insight to, appeared extraordinarily complicated. They wanted to ask why they were even friends at this point, but they knew that relationships from childhood tended to root themselves incredibly deep.

Linhardt wasn’t certain how they could respond, choosing to reach out and hug a pillow. Dimitri’s childhood toy rolled toward them. They shoved the worn out lion back approximately where it was perched.

“Could I make an observation?” Dimitri said, “I promise it’s not a judgment.”

“Sure,” Linhardt said, yawning.

“Perhaps it’s also a bit of a question,” Dimitri said. He typed something and leaned back. He brought his arms over his head before he said, “Does that mean you have been… involved… with everyone in the chat?”

Linhardt raised their eyebrows. “No,” they replied, “Well… nearly everyone. I still haven’t been with Caspar.”

They weren’t even certain how it happened. It probably had to do with the fact that they were one of the few people they knew that wasn’t afraid to just ask someone if they were interested in hooking up. It probably helps that, whether intentionally or not, they had curated a collection of very attractive friends through a mutual group chat.

Even then, they thought about Caspar and gulped too hard. Their throat ached moments later.

They realized that Dimitri never provided a follow up thought. Linhardt yawned another time for emphasis before flopping across the bed. They were relieved that Dimitri stopped typing, his fingers occasionally tapping against the trackpad of his laptop.

*

Linhardt woke up, realizing that they were seemingly swaddled in blankets. When they turned over and saw Dimitri lying in bed next to them, cocooned in his own blankets, they were able to fill in the blanks. 

Linhardt watched Dimitri, waiting for him to open up his eyes a little too quickly. He sat up, the blankets falling around him as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you sleep well?” Dimitri asked.

“Better than I thought I would,” Linhardt admitted. They had been on day two of struggling to fall asleep and they were used to this not tapering off for at least another day or so. 

“Would you like breakfast?” Dimitri asked.

“Can it be something I can take on the go?” Linhardt asked, “I’m not particularly interested in dealing with Felix glaring at me.”

“Completely understandable,” Dimitri said. He got up out of bed, tossing a sweatshirt and sweatpants on before he led Linhardt to the kitchen.

Lihardt leaned against the counter as Dimitri opened up the fridge, politely passing along a container of yogurt and granola their way with a plastic spoon. “I’m sorry it isn’t much,” Dimitri murmured.

It was relative. The Blue Lions house seemed to be an anomaly for college houses in the sense that there was a variety of people who lived there that could cook. Unfortunately, Dimitri was not one of them. At least he knew it. 

“I’m gonna go,” Linhardt said, nearly rushing toward the door.

“I’ll see you soon?” Dimitri asked.

Linhardt rolled their eyes. “We’ll probably be talking to each other on the server in an hour.”

“You’re right,” Dimitri said, opening the door and ushering Linhardt out.

Linhardt opened up their yogurt, licking the lid and shuddering moments later when their tongue touched the tinfoil. They continued to walk, pouring granola into it and taking spoonfuls of yogurt and fishing them into their mouth. 

It was a chilly morning in March. Frost was still on the grass and Linhardt felt the cold bite through their thin shoes. Thankfully, the Blue Lions house was only a few blocks away from their home, the Black Eagles House. They were never one to speed up, but they found themselves doing just that as they neared the black roof of their house. They walked onto the grass, the frost already wetting the toes of their shoes. They hissed, nearly knocking over one of the plastic pumpkins that were positioned near the front door. They entered as quietly as they could, assuming the next person to leave would pick up the fallen decorations.

They kicked their shoes off by the door, grumbling as they took off their wet socks. It looked like everybody was still asleep, which worked for them. It meant that they could roll into bed and not deal with anyone’s inquiry. 

“Where were you?” they heard someone ask.

Linhardt looked up, locating the voice coming from the kitchen. Petra. They forgot to account for her early morning workouts on Saturdays. She had some sort of shake in her hand, tilting it toward her mouth and taking a sip.

“At the Blue Lions house,” Linhardt replied.

Petra nodded. “All right,” she said, returning to whatever she was doing in the kitchen. At least she was the type that would gladly keep herself out of people’s business .

Linhardt flopped on a nearby couch, finishing up their yogurt. They leaned back and immediately caught themselves getting too comfortable. They forced themselves to stop sitting down, tossing the yogurt container in the garbage bin near Petra. Again, Petra was unruffled, not even caring to acknowledge the wobbly toss. 

“See you around,” Petra said. All Linhardt could do was wave and walk to their bedroom, trying their best to open up the door quietly. They assumed that Caspar was most likely asleep, even if he had assignments he probably should have been working on.

Sure enough, he still was, his covers wrapped loosely around himself. He appeared to be in a deep enough sleep that he didn’t even react to Linhardt closing the door. Linhardt breathed a sigh of relief as they slid under their own covers, bringing their comforter over their head. 

They located their laptop propped up against the bed and they grabbed it. They opened it up, immediately checking message notifications. They interacted with far too many people in the early hours of the day, but they could feel a sensation like electricity behind their eyes preventing them from being able to close their eyes and fall back asleep again. They could at least relegate themselves to going through social media notifications.

Sure enough, there were early risers already in the group chat. Leonie posted a selfie she took after her workout. There were a few emoji reactions underneath and Linhardt added their own. The rest of the channels were quiet, most likely because everyone else was still asleep. They closed their laptop, carefully propping it against their bed again as they tugged their comforter over their head again.

Covers rustled nearby and they listened to what they assumed was Caspar stumbling around. They got confirmation with something butting against his shoulder as his scratchy morning voice asked, “Hey, Lin? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” Linhardt grumbled. They pulled their blankets off their head, turning toward Caspar and nearly freezing. Caspar’s hair was sticking up in every direction, his eyes still not quite focused, but still wide with worry.

“I didn’t know where you were!” Caspar squawked. “I kept trying to text you and you weren’t picking up.”

“Was it…” Linhardt started. They brought their hand toward their pocket, feeling the outline of their phone in their sweatpants. They grabbed it, realizing that it was dead and probably died hours ago. “I must have lost track of time,” they admitted. “I was just staying over the Blue Lions place.”

“Oh, you were?” Caspar asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

LInhardt opened their mouth and immediately closed it. A phrase like “I was hooking up with Felix” would typically flow freely from their mouth without hesitation. Even then, Linhardt felt their tongue too heavy in their mouth. 

“My phone died,” Linhardt decided to say instead.

Caspar sighed. Concerned seemed to weigh in his face, but he still didn’t say anything, flashing a smile before he chirped, “Well, I’m glad you’re okay!” before he returned to his bed.

Linhardt nodded, fumbling through the tangled wires by their bed until they located their phone charging cord. They plugged it in and flopped across their own bed, taking a deep breath. 

They hated how stifling it felt being in the same room as Caspar. Even then, their skin felt a little too hot. Each shift of Caspar’s sheets made their ears burn. They stared at their phone, waiting until it was halfway charged before they got out of bed, tossing on a sweater and jeans before they announced that they had to get work done and were going to go to the library. Caspar seemed unbothered, wishing them luck as they grabbed their bag and closed the door on the way out.

It was still cool, but at least it was warm enough that the frost melted. They realized that they shouldn’t have worn the same shoes, as they were still wet on their feet, but the thought of going back and changing their socks in the same room as Caspar felt too overwhelming. They continued to walk through the sleepy streets, the occasional weekend bus ambling past on its loop around campus. 

It wasn’t like they were lying about having work to do. They enjoyed that they could have an individualized major and take any class they claimed would qualify for it, even if they tended to end up with a pile up of research projects at various points of the year.

In truth, even this route had a bit too many restraints for them. But as much as they had their own gripes with the due dates of academia, it was hard to deny that it was a system they had to at least somewhat tolerate in order to be able to access massive libraries with warm lighting and archives that they had barely gotten through after being at the school for nearly two years.

Linhardt vastly preferred this form of research. There was comfort in a book with yellowed pages in their hand. They loved the way the pages flipped and how the cover sounded as it slid across the table when Linhardt took notes.

They eventually checked the server, relieved that everything seemed to still be typical. Claude was baiting everyone to react to his prompt, which was a collection of loudly printed shirts that he was thinking about buying. Mercedes was fielding interests in a potential hang out at the Blue Lions house. It looked like everybody was interested, Caspar included. Linhardt gave a thumbs up reaction in response to the invitation and left it at that.

Maybe it was a good thing that they were ending up at the Blue Lions house again. There would be enough people to bounce off of that they wouldn’t spend their time dealing with feeling uncomfortable with Caspar. It was an unsettling feeling for them and one that they felt confident in saying they were wholly unfamiliar with. It was like a seed of doubt planting deep inside of them and the last thing they wanted it to do was to be able to continue to grow.

They turned to their book, scanning through the last paragraph they had read. They sighed, tilting it closer to their face as they continued to read through it. It looked like people weren’t going to start getting there until sometime around seven. They had a few hours of solitude and they were going to enjoy it. 

They liked this library far more than the one back home. Here the staff left students alone, allowing Linhardt to create a fortress of books, the scent consuming them and comforting them. In this moment they could focus on extraordinarily specific literary theory and not think about the world outside of this space. They checked their phone at seven-thirty and realized that Claude had tagged them in a post asking if they were still in the library.

Linhardt sighed, not even replying to the message before they shoved their phone back in their pocket and began to pack up their things, putting books on the appropriate carts before they made their way out into the even colder night air.

They should have brought a jacket, but they figured there was no point in stopping by home before they went to the Blue Lions house. It wouldn’t be a struggle to get anyone to spare a jacket for them, anyway. 

The streets were far more active than in the morning. Groups of students were roaming the sidewalks, loudly laughing as they crinkled water bottles full of brightly colored liquid. Linhardt tried their best to cross the street to avoid them, if only because they were all so obnoxiously loud. Thankfully, the Blue Lions house was close to campus. Linhardt walked towards the door and rolled their eyes when they realized that it was unlocked. They closed the door behind them, locking it before they walked upstairs.

“Is that _Linhardt_?” Caspar’s voice cut through the haze of conversation. 

Linhardt got to the top of the stairs and saw everybody sprawled out across the living room. The TV had something playing from Youtube. It looked like one of those dead mall videos that Linhardt was pretty certain they were the one who got everyone hooked on initially.

Linhardt spotted Caspar on one of the couches, already wedged into the side with Leonie in the middle and Felix on the opposite end. They considered taking the floor near Caspar, about to walk toward it until Mercedes said, “Oh, Lin, why don’t you join me here!”

Linhardt turned toward Mercedes, seeing that she was contently sitting on the loveseat with an open spot next to her. Linhardt joined her, glancing up at Caspar, who was sitting on the opposite end of the room. 

They reminded themselves that this was irrational. They never had to sit next to each other. Most people in the chat were always switching around where they sat, unless they were Claude and Dimitri, who were currently jammed onto an old recliner, Claude looking like he was about to tip over the couch aside from Dimitri’s hand placed carefully against the small of his back. The only person without a seat was Bernadetta, which wasn’t unusual. She was content lying across the carpet, a notebook open underneath her arm as she twirled a pen in her hands. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” Mercedes asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Linhardt said. She smiled and flitted to the kitchen. At least she was going to make something strong. She returned with a red Solo cup and, judging by the smell, it was mostly gin and some lemonade. They took a small sip and once they got confirmation, they took another one.

“We were thinking about Never Have I Ever,” Leonie said, grinning .

“Not everyone has to participate if they don’t want to,” Dimitri murmured.

“It’s fine, I’ll play,” Linhardt said, leaning forward on their seat. 

Bernadetta sat up, her notebook still in her lap. Claude and Dimitri untangled themselves and kneeled closer toward everyone.

Everyone raised a hand, Claude wiggling his fingers before he said, “Let’s try to not do that thing where we clearly gang up on someone.”

“That’s a weird rule to have when you are usually the one that organizes attacks like that,” Linhardt mumbled.

Claude glared at them. “Sylvain’s not here, so it’s not as fun,” he said, tucking a curl of his hair behind his ear. 

“Fair enough,” Linhardt agreed. 

“I don’t have to drink if I want to play, right?” Bernadetta asked.

“Nobody has to if they don’t want to,” Mercedes added.

“Thank you!” Bernadetta exclaimed, smiling slightly before she sat up a bit straighter.

The game starts predictably. Claude kicked it off by saying that he’s never been in a Cracker Barrel. It slowly becomes everybody rattling off chain restaurants they’ve never been in, one or two fingers going down in the process.

Linhardt glanced up, seeing that Caspar’s fingers appeared to be mostly up. It made sense. They tended to bring each other to their family lake houses every summer for a few years, but outside of that, neither of them seemed to travel much across the country. 

Linhardt took a sip of their drink, wondering who was going to change the one of the tone to something more dirty. Linhardt waited, four fingers up, wondering who was going to make the leap.

“Never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” Felix grumbled.

Linhardt raised their eyebrows. It wasn’t who they expected to make the shift, but maybe he was out of milder ideas. 

“Ah, shit,” Leonie grumbled, taking a sip of her drink as she lowered her finger. Mercedes lowered her finger as well before taking a sip of her own drink. Linhardt tentatively lowered their own finger, even though their story was really mundane and featured them being too lazy to switch into a bathing suit before a late night swim. Dimitri mouthed something at Felix and Felix glared at him, which made Linhardt wonder what story they shared that could have been confused with skinny dipping. 

Linhardt scanned Caspar’s face, frowning when they realized that his lips were pressed into a thin line. They brought their hand to their hair, poking at the sloppy bun they had pulled their hair back into halfway through their library trip. It made sense that Caspar wasn’t happy with this development. As he had screamed on the server more than once, he was still a virgin. No one was cruel about it, but it wasn’t like saying that was going to result in everyone sending invitations his way. 

Linhardt waited patiently for their turn, hopeful that they would be able to come up with a prompt that would bring them back on a less sexual track. 

“Never have I ever hooked up with someone in a car,” Claude said.

Linhardt groaned as they lowered their finger and took a sip. Leonie made out with them in her car late last year. Again, probably not as salacious as some of the other people in the circle, but still fell under the prompt. 

Dimitri put his drink down and tapped his chin. “Never have I ever…” he started, “...received anal.”

Linhardt grabbed their drink before he even finished his sentence. They had slept with him enough times to know that one. They glanced at their singular pointer finger that was raised. At least it looked like Dimitri wasn’t faring much better. They assumed that unless someone was making a concentrated attack on Leonie’s two fingers up, that it was going to be one of them getting knocked out first. 

Mercedes hummed to herself as she glanced around the circle. “Never have I ever... hm… never have I ever slept with someone in this circle twice.”

Claude lowered a finger as Dimitri lowered his last one, finishing his drink. Linhardt lowered their own finger, hoping nobody would notice.

“Hey, wait,” Leonie said, “Who was it, Lin?”

Linhardt looked up, wishing they didn’t catch Caspar staring them down. For another time today they found themselves at a loss for words because of him and they hated it.

“Oh, it was me,” Dimitri said.

Linhardt opened their mouth, wishing they had something biting to say. But even then, why should they? It was the truth and if there was one thing that Linhardt was always dedicated to, it was providing that.

“ _Really_?” Mercedes asked, smirking. “I know you’ve been staying over quite a bit, Lin, but I didn’t realize…”

Felix adjusted himself on the couch, his already glowering expression finding a way to deepen. 

Linhardt took another sip from their cup, realizing that they had reached the bottom of it. “Anyway, I’m going to refresh my drink,” they said, sliding off the couch and walking far too briskly toward the kitchen. They heard footsteps behind them and they turned around, realizing that it was Dimitri behind them. 

“Please, let me,” Dimitri said.

Linhardt rolled their eyes, unsure if they wanted him here or not. “Sure, why not,” they said. They perched on top of one of the counters as Dimitri quietly took Linhardt’s cup and pointed at the spread of drink options, which appeared to feature more of the gin and lemonade combination, White Claws, and boxed wine. Linhardt shrugged and Dimitri decided to give them more of the gin and passed it back toward them.

“I’m so sorry I disclosed like that,” Dimitri whispered, “I made an assumption that I shouldn’t have.”

Linhardt rolled their eyes. They hated when Dimitri got like this. His tone became so grave he sounded more like he tossed a person’s pet out the window as opposed to whatever minor transgression that weighed so heavily on him. 

“It’s not something I’m embarrassed about,” Linhardt snapped, “I just…” Linhardt licked their lips, taking a sip before they scrunched up their nose. “What’s the ratio in this?”

“I’m afraid I’m unsure,” Dimitri confessed, “But I think it’s a little stronger toward the bottom.”

“Sure,” Linhardt said, keeping their mouth against the cup. They stared at Dimitri for a long moment. They had a longstanding theory that anyone attracted to men in their chat probably had a Dimitri phase. He had the long hair and eye patch of a bad boy, but he was sensitive in a way that wasn’t manipulative. He clearly had a story, but he had learned at some point that he shouldn’t unload it on people. 

Linhardt knew that Dimitri was a placeholder for their heart. They just hoped Dimitri was aware of it.

“I just don’t want to have Caspar feel uncomfortable,” Linhardt said.

Dimitri nodded. “Oh, understood,” he said. He poured himself some of the boxed wine and leaned against the counter next to Linhardt. “I’ll make sure to redirect discussion if it goes in that direction again.”

“I appreciate it,” Linhardt said. They yawned, raising their hand to chase the end of it. Maybe their feelings were a little more sincere than just having him being some sort of surrogate. They wouldn’t have ended up in a scenario like this if they didn’t at least somewhat tolerate him.

“Would you like me to stagger going back to the group?” Dimitri asked.

Linhardt winced, shaking their head. “No,” they said, “But we should start heading back before someone starts catcalling.”

“That’s a fair point,” Dimitri replied. He reached out toward Linhardt and Linhardt passed their drink toward him before they slid off the counter and plucked it from his hand. They walked toward the living room again, where it appeared that the game had ended. The group seemed to have resumed watching dead mall videos and screaming when the narrator pointed out a particularly moldy wall.

Linhardt took a seat on the floor near Caspar’s feet and looked up at him. Caspar flashed a smile and Linhardt decided to let themselves accept it at face value. Even under tense times, they had no reason to doubt his smile.

The party eventually began to wind down, Felix deciding that he had had enough and beginning to make his way upstairs. Bernadetta led Caspar and Linhardt toward the stairs, Linhardt mumbling, “Oh, does anybody have an extra jacket I could borrow?”

Mercedes began to look around and Dimitri was already walking toward the coat rack, passing a blue and gray varsity jacket over. “Here, just give it back when you can,” Dimitri offered.

Linhardt sighed, taking the jacket and putting it on. 

“Thank you,” they murmured, unable to bring themselves to scold Dimitri for the gesture. Everybody exchanged their final goodbyes and began to walk down the stairs, spilling out of the front porch.

Linhart buttoned the jacket up, catching the scent of whatever Dimitri put on when he went out. They swallowed any possible reaction, content to follow Bernadetta and Caspar as they made their way back toward the Black Eagles house.

The walk was quiet until they saw a cat rushing past, Caspar insisting he saw the cat before and they were _super_ friendly. Linhardt snorted as Caspar brought the cat over toward Bernadetta. She tentatively pet the top of their head before Caspar brought them down and let them scurry toward a bush.

When they reached home, they said hello to Edelgard and Hubert, who were sitting in the living room before Bernadetta disappeared into her room and Caspar and Linhardt returned to their own. Linhardt almost immediately ripped the jacket off and tossed it on the back of their desk chair, before flopping across their bed.

Caspar appeared somewhat calmer as he put his jacket on the foot of his bed and sat on the edge of it.

Linhardt turned on their side, facing Caspar. They never felt guilty around Caspar until this moment. They absolutely despised it and didn’t know how to stop it.

“I’m not mad at you,” Caspar said, because of course he knew exactly what they were thinking.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Linhardt admitted.

“It’s just…” Caspar started. He clamped his mouth shut for a moment, his shoulders shaking. “It’s just _Dimitri_? Really? That dude is built like a monster truck and it’s _so unfair_!”

Linhardt couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s also been on T for awhile. With the right workout regimen, I’m sure you’ll get to a similar size once you’re on it, too.”

“Yeah, but I won’t ever get that tall,” he grumbled.

Linhardt shook their head. “No, but you have more height than you’d think. Remember when you were barely over five feet tall for a while?”

Caspar rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me!” he exclaimed, “Do you know how jealous I was that you were so much taller than me?”

“I do,” Linhardt said. They didn’t hear the end of it for what felt like years.

“I just…” Caspar sighed, “I am so tired of being so far behind from everyone. It seems like everybody is looking like how they want to and I’m still waiting.”

Linhardt considered gently reminding Caspar about the various conversations everyone had in the group on the subject. Not everybody was on hormones, several people were saving up for surgeries, and some just didn’t entirely know what they wanted yet. But they knew better than to remind Caspar this in the moment, because they didn’t want to appear entirely contrary.

“So why are you so hesitant about going on T at this point?” Linhardt asked.

Caspar shrugged. “I don’t know,” he confessed, “I just…” He huffed. “My brother laughed in my face when I brought it up and I guess I just worry…” He sighed. “I don’t get taken seriously at all with this stuff. You know that, Lin.”

Caspar sniffed wetly and Linhardt rolled out of bed. They sat down next to Caspar and opened their arms, letting Caspar thump himself against them. Of course they knew that. Caspar was never outright disowned when he came out, but the tension between him and his father and brother became stifling. The two of them were seasoned at creating elaborate ways to avoid having to spend time at home on breaks, but Linhardt found that they were more and more focused on coming up with plans weeks in advance.

“I think we both know that there isn’t really anything that will make your father happy,” Linhardt said. They sighed, unable to resist rubbing the palm of their hand along Caspar’s arm. “So you should just do what makes you happy. From what I’ve heard, it’s incredibly easy to get an appointment at the health center and get started.”

Caspar nodded his head. He turned his face toward Linhardt’s chest and hugged them tightly. They grunted, forcing themselves to resist struggling against him. Caspar sniffled and tilted his head far enough away from Linhardt’s chest to ask, “Would you come with me?”

“Of course,” Linhardt said, “But if you’re doing shots, you have to learn how to do it on your own.”

Caspar laughed. “Of course I will,” he replied, refusing to let go of Linhardt’s waist.

*

Linhardt didn’t see themselves as someone who could inspire much of anything, but they must have done something right. Caspar called the health center the next day and the two of them were on the campus bus that Friday, making their way towards the facility.

Linhardt yawned, covering their mouth as they did. They crashed the day before and it was a struggle to even get to class, let alone go out for anything outside of it. But they made a promise to Caspar and they refused to let him down.

Caspar was a twitchy mess, his leg bouncing up and down and occasionally bonking against Linhardt’s knee.

“Are you nervous?” Linhardt asked.

“No! I don’t think so. They won’t just straight-up tell me no, you think?” Caspar asked.

“I’m fairly certain they would only say no if there’s certain health issues,” Linhardt said. They cleared their throat and added, “But I’m certain that you will be able to still go on them, it might just take a moment to figure out what’s going on.”

Caspar frowned, but nodded his head. “Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” he mumbled.

They were quiet until they made it to the health center stop, the two of them walking toward the door and hoping off the bus. Linhardt shrugged out of Dimitri’s jacket, feeling the warm sun against their face. They kept telling themselves that they were wearing it so they could toss it to him when they inevitably passed by each other on campus sometime that week. 

They entered the health center, the waiting area looking relatively quiet. Caspar checked in and, when the two of them sat down, his leg was shaking again. Linhardt snuck a picture of Caspar and sent it in the server, announcing that they were waiting for him to go in.

“Aw, thanks, Linny,” Caspar said, his cheeks pink. 

“Of course,” Linhardt said. They couldn’t help but smile when they saw that Felix was one of the first people to say that he hoped the appointment went well.

It was getting easier to spend time with Caspar again. When their mind was still enough they would remember how uncomfortable they felt concerning the developments of the weekend prior, but it didn’t consume them in quite the same way anymore. Hopefully it never would again. 

Caspar’s name was called and Linhardt waved as he got up and disappeared in the back. Linhardt stared at the door long after it closed, taking a deep breath before they leaned back on their chair. Their eyes grew heavy and they let them close, only waking up when they felt something punch their shoulder. 

Their eyes snapped open, looking up and seeing Caspar standing in front of them.

“You’re done?” Linhardt asked.

“Yuh huh,” Caspar said, pulling up his sleeve and showing off the bandaid, setting a wad of cotton against the crook of his elbow. “I just gotta wait for my test results to come back.” Caspar yanked Linhardt up, tugging them into a tight embrace. “I can’t believe this is actually happening!”

Linhardt tentatively hugged back. “Yeah,” they said, “I’m happy for you, Caspar.”

Caspar lifted them up for emphasis.

“Okay, okay, let’s get back home, please?” Linhardt asked.

“Sure thing!” Caspar exclaimed. He nearly ran out of the health center, Linhardt trailing behind him. They stopped at the bus stop, searching for a screen to let them know when the next one would arrive.

“Hey, Lin?” Caspar asked.

“What?” Linhardt replied.

“Thanks for being here with me.” Caspar gave them a charming smile. “I can’t imagine who else I would want to have here.”

Linhardt smiled back, grateful that the bus arrived before they had to come up with a decent response.

*

The next few days are a bit of a blur for Linhardt, who spent most of their time in bed or napping in their usual corner of the library. They waited for the next wave of wakefulness to arrive, their eyes snapped open and their skin vibrating as Caspar launched into their bedroom, landing somewhere near Linhardt’s bed before he screamed, “Guess who’s starting T next week!”

Linhardt yawned as they tried to pull themselves up right. “I’m going to assume you,” they replied.

“You’re right!” Caspar exclaimed. He dove onto Linhardt’s bed, a grin on his face and showing no sign of fading. “Thank you for giving me the push,” he said.

“Oh,” Linhardt said, “I mean… you’re the one who finally made the call. I just tagged along.”

The two of them were quiet for a long moment before Caspar said, “You can go to bed again if you need to.”

Linhardt took the invitation graciously, lying down and hugging a blanket close.

*

Caspar went on T and everything became strangely quiet.

At least, as quiet as they could be when being in the orbit of someone as loud as Caspar. There were morning rituals that now featured Caspar rubbing at his chin in search of facial hair and scrutinizing his hips in the mirror as if they would miraculously shift. Even if the pace was slower than Caspar probably wanted, it was progress and Linhardt was excited for him.

Linhardt certainly wasn’t prepared for a certain message when they found themselves checking a message in the server during a particularly boring part of their Introduction to the Gothic class.

They probably shouldn’t have been checking the NSFW channel in the middle of class. It wasn’t the filthiest NSFW channel Linhardt ever saw, but it certainly trailed into the explicit, complete with topless photos and weird sexuality questions that people usually let fester in their heads. 

Regardless, they checked the NSFW channel and was greeted to Caspar going, “hey is it normal for you to go on t and get like REALLY horny? like way more than you ever were beforehand?”

Linhardt’s eyes went wide and they nearly threw their phone, opting instead to flip it over onto the desk. They gulped, taking a deep breath and forcing themselves to stay locked into class for the last twenty minutes before they flipped the phone over again to finish reading the channel.

It looked like other people had jumped in to respond.

“Research suggests that this is a common reaction!” Mercedes had replied, her response having several cute emojis sprinkled in between. 

“Yeah, that was definitely a thing when I went on it,” Dimitri replied. It was such a simple response and Linhardt could still feel their face warm up. What a nightmare. 

Linhardt immediately muted the channel. Surely everyone would understand if they took a few weeks off from reacting to people’s photos. They shoved their phone in their pocket and grabbed their bag, marching out of the classroom and nearly screaming when they realized that they had forgotten their jacket in the classroom. They shamefully trudged back, grabbing it and putting it on before they resumed walking in the direction of their next class.

They yanked their hair out of its loose ponytail, running their fingers through it. It was greasy, making them realize they couldn’t remember the last time they washed it. They continued to comb through their hair anyway, trying to get caught up in the sensation.

If this was anybody else, they would see this as a potential invitation. But this wasn’t anybody else and they knew that. This was someone they had to sleep across the room with, knowing that Caspar was apparently so turned on, he felt the need to vent about it. 

They walked into the next classroom building, functionally on autopilot as they spotted a seat in the second row, far closer to the front than they would usually sit. 

If they were going to want to find a way to stop thinking about all of this, they were going to have to be the most active participant in class they could ever be.

They were fairly certain that they never spoke so much in class in their entire life.

When it ended they followed the crowd and spilled into the sidewalk with them, letting most of the people cut ahead before they sat on a bench, leaning back on it. If they went straight home, Caspar would be there. It was usually a welcomed moment between the two of them. The rest of their housemates were in class or working and it allowed the two of them to exist in a space that made Linhardt think about when they would alternate between going to each other’s houses after-school. But they were feeling the same feeling of dread course through them like it did the Saturday they came back from their time with Felix.

They got up, shoving their hands in their jacket. They looked down, remembering that they were told they should specifically bring it back.

They decided to do just that, taking the bus and getting off at the stop that was technically closer to the Blue Lions house. 

They considered telling Caspar, but they resisted. It wasn’t like their downtime between classes was ever intentionally planned. They focused on walking toward the front door of the Blue Lions house and rolled their eyes when they realized that the door was unlocked.

They walked upstairs, listening to the sound of a mixer whirling. When they reached the top of the stairs they found themselves locking eyes with one of the housemates, Sylvain. He appeared to be set up at the coffee table, his laptop opened. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming over, Linhardt,” Sylvain said, “Make yourself at home.”

“Is that Linhardt?” Mercedes asked, shutting off the mixer. Her other housemates Annette and Dedue waved, the two of them appearing to tag team sifting flour for some reason. 

“You left your front door open again,” Linhardt pointed out.

Dedue rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he grumbled.

“I’ll lock it!” Sylvain exclaimed. He darted past, running down the stairs, the lock popping before he rushed back up the stairs. 

“Who keeps doing that?” Linhart asked.

“We have a few theories,” Annette replied.

“It’s Felix,” Dedue said, “His key probably went missing or something like that.”

The bathroom door opened and Claude was there. “Oh, hey, Linny,” Claude said, “I didn’t realize you were coming over.”

“I figured people would be around, so I stopped by,” Linhardt admitted. It took everything inside them to not outwardly frown at his presence. Claude was going to be able to get priority to Dimitri’s bed. They would have to scheme or take the couch if they wanted to camp out another night.

No one argued with them, resuming their activities. Linhardt began to set up the loveseat, opening up their laptop, but focusing their attention on observing the way an afternoon played out in the Blue Lions house.

It was interesting watching Claude walk around the house without his arms seemingly entangled with Dimitri’s. Apparently, he had a decent rapport with Dedue, because the two of them were having a vibrant side conversation to Annette, Dedue, and Mercedes’s baking efforts. Sylvain claimed that he was studying, but he was clearly trying to do anything and everything to avoid doing it, shouting from the living room when he felt like being a part of the conversation.

The door unlocked and Dimitri came back, his backpack slung on his shoulder. He saw Linhardt and seemed to nearly jump. “Oh, hello!” he exclaimed. 

“I wanted to bring your jacket back,” Linhardt said, tossing it weakly toward him. Dimitri nearly dove for it, grabbing the jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack again before he continued to say his hellos, inevitably staying in the kitchen and sitting next to Claude, inserting himself into Claude and Dedue’s conversation with ease.

Linhardt should have known that they didn’t have enough evidence to make an impulsive trip like this. They were well aware that the Blue Lions operated like a dysfunctional family at best, but they certainly didn’t expect that they would live out the dynamic with a heavy emphasis on family. They were offered a slice of banana bread with a similar level of care, but it was impossible for Linhardt to jump into half the conversations that were floating around between all of them.

They just weren’t ready to see how seamlessly Claude fit into it. Sure, he was glued to Dimitri immediately, but it seemed like he had no issues keeping up with the topics, laughing, even having his own inside jokes with the housemates.

Linhardt felt their teeth grind. They missed the person they had that dynamic with. But with this tension that kept rising the past few weeks, they found themselves considering scenarios that it would never flow this easy for them ever again.

“Linhardt, you’re staying for dinner, right?” Mercedes asked.

Linhardt nodded. Even with these feelings boiling inside them, they knew better than to turn down a meal at the Blue Lions house. They seemed to hoard every college aged person who knew how to cook.

They kept their feelings in check by focusing on a reflection paper they were assigned. Eventually they felt their phone vibrate and they checked it, trying to conceal their shock when they realized that it was Caspar asking if they were coming home anytime soon. Linhardt brought their hand to their hair and tugged on it before they texted a quick, light response that they were returning Dimitri’s jacket and they would come back later tonight or early tomorrow.

They hated how guilty they felt saying such a thing. Maybe Caspar wouldn’t want to be there, but they should have provided some form of an invitation. 

No one seems to bother them much, Dimitri passing a bowl of food their way before he sat on the couch with Dedue and Claude. They looked comical, Dedue and Dimitri significantly larger than Claude, but they all seemed happy enough with the arrangement. 

Linhardt wondered if Dedue and DImitri ever had a crisis like the one they were going through. Did they ever have a time that they felt like they were hurting each other living in this strange ambiguity of friendship and intimacy? Were they worried that the shifts in feelings were going to destroy everything they have built? 

Maybe they didn’t give a shit, because they didn’t have a friendship that was as long as the one between Caspar and them.

There was a fracture on the couch. Dimitri asked if Claude was staying over and Claude shook his head, a smile dancing on his lips. The conversation seemed well rehearsed. 

“I know my way home, Dimirimi,” Claude said, his voice calm and the slightest bit mocking. Dimitri frowned, but didn’t beg, nodding his head and saying, “I know you do.”

“How do we feel about hosting a party next weekend?” Sylvain asked. Linhardt was relieved to have a subject that they could latch onto.

“That could be fun!” Annette exclaimed.

“I didn’t see anything that would conflict on the calendar,” Mercedes added.

“Could it be a theme?” Claude asked, “I feel like whenever you have a party it’s just all of us wearing our usual clothes.”

“What level of theme are we thinking here?” Dedue asked.

Claude shrugged. “Like, I don’t know… what about overalls? Does everybody have overalls?”

“I don’t think I have overalls…” Dimitri started.

“We can buy you overalls,” Claude said.

“If we’re going to do a theme, we need to do something cool like… I don’t know… dead celebrities or something,” Sylvain said.

“ _Sylvain_ …” Dimitri started.

“Now _that_ sounds like a fun theme,” Linhardt noted.

“See, a prospective guest agrees to the theme, that has to count for something,” Sylvain said, gesturing in their general direction.

“I think it could be fun,” Mercedes agreed.

“I’ll invite the trans chat,” Claude said, typing something on his phone. As soon as he finished the message, Linhardt and Dimitri’s phones vibrated. 

The conversation became everybody discussing who they could possibly dress up as. Linhardt was content joining in, mostly to encourage people to select more ridiculous or ambitious options. When people were beginning to yawn, Claude got up, announcing that he was going to leave. Everybody said their goodbyes to him before he left, Linhardt noticing that Dimitri kept himself pressed up against Dedue as if he was still saving the spot.

Even then, Dimitri still turned toward Linhardt and asked, “What are your plans, Linhardt? Are you planning on going home, too?”

Linhardt shrugged. “I mean, if you’re offering I wouldn’t mind staying over,” they replied.

Dimitri smiled and Linhardt knew that they were being used, but it was fine. They were using Dimitri, too.

Everyone eventually got ready for bed, Dimitri leading Linhardt to his room before saying that he was going to talk to Dedue about something. Linhardt was content to get ready for bed, creating a nest of their favorite blankets and burrowing themselves in it before Dimitri came back, getting ready for bed before he joined Linhardt, creating his own pile of blankets before lying down on his back. 

Linhardt tentatively rested their head on Dimitri’s chest, huffing as Dimitri held them tightly with one arm. Their other arm was busy propping up his phone. He made no effort to conceal his screen, clearly alternating between texting Claude, Dedue, and sending random messages to the server.

“And you’re not dating either of them?” Linhardt asked.

“Oh, no,” Dimitri replied, his tone somewhat light. “We’re all just friends.”

Linhardt lifted their head slightly, furrowing their brows. “Why not?” they asked, “You just spent the entire night being cozy with the two of them.”

Dimitri sighed, flipping his phone over before he knocked it against the nightstand. “Because…” His face screwed up as his phone vibrated. He reached out, but resisted, bringing his hand to his chest and leaving it there. “They deserve far better than me. After all, I’m nowhere near where I should be in terms of… well, many things.”

Linhardt watched Dimitri grip his hand into a fist before loosening it again. They knew that they were supposed to console him in some way, but all they could think about was Caspar. He was jealous of someone who was nearly as insecure as he was, even if the two of them were worried about different things. 

They snorted. Dimitri jerked his head toward them, his face screwed up into a grimace.

“I’m sorry,” Linhardt halfheartedly apologized, “You’re acting like you’re doing people a service by not dating them, but giving every other possible sign you’re into them.”

“I don’t want people to feel like they have to take care of me,” Dimitri said.

“People feel like they need to take care of you, because they like you, even if it isn’t romantic,” Linhardt pointed out. Again, flashes of Caspar went through their mind. Even if they were potentially always going to be in a situation they were going to develop feelings for him, they cared deeply about him well before that moment. “Besides, if I thought you were a black hole, I wouldn’t waste my precious waking hours with you.”

“You’ve always been honest to a fault,” Dimitri mumbled. Even then, there was a smile on his lips. He relaxed again, his hand resting on Linhardt’s waist. “Regardless, I feel that it’s a bit too selfish to want two people simultaneously.”

“It’s just polyamory,” Linhardt replied, “As long as everyone is aware of what is happening, who cares?”

Dimitri smiled, even if it was tight and uncomfortable. “I don’t think it’s advisable to pursue two people simultaneously, regardless.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Linhardt said, “But honestly, that’s your problem.”

“It is,” Dimitri agreed. HIs grip on Linhardt’s waist loosened, his hand slowly trailing away. His body went stiff again as he tilted his head away. 

“What?” Linhardt asked.

Dimitri took a deep breath. “I think I’m using you, Linhardt,” he said quietly.

Linhardt felt their heart pound loud enough that it was in their ears. Again, all they could think about was Caspar. “I mean, I don’t think you’re using me any more than I’m using you,” they said, hoping he wouldn’t expect them to elaborate.

Dimitri shifted under them and Linhardt rolled away from him. He sat up, bringing his hands to his hair and ruffling it as he took a deep, ragged breath. He slowly looked up, turning toward Linhardt. His blind eye appeared to swim, unable to focus. It didn’t seem to matter, because his other eye carried enough of his distress. 

“Regardless… I don’t think I feel comfortable pursuing this with you,” Dimitri said, each word appearing labored as it came out of his mouth. “I think I need you to sleep on the couch tonight. I’m sorry.”

Linhardt stared at him for a long time. As much as they wanted to maintain control of the conversation, they lost it, their mouth opening and closing several times. “Huh,” they finally said, their eyebrows furrowing at their weak response, “I mean… I… that’s fair.” 

“Thank you,” Dimitri said, his voice soft. “I’m sorry for rescinding an invitation like this.” 

“You’re doing what you gotta do,” Linhardt said, realizing that they had to straddle Dimitri if they wanted to get out of the bed. They tentatively raised their leg up, the two of them staring at each other before Dimitri sputtered apologies, launching off the bed and pressing himself against the wall. 

Linhardt rolled their eyes, getting their pants back on and making sure they had all their things. “I hope you figure your shit out,” Linhardt said as they walked toward the door.

Dimitri laughed nervously. He cleared his throat before he said, “I hope you find an arrangement that you are far more deserving of.”

Linhardt smiled weakly, their hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight, Dimitri,” they said, opening up the door and slipping out, the creak of the door swallowing whatever Dimitri was going to say.

They stood in the hallway for a long moment, staring at the living room at the end of it. The last thing they wanted to do was deal with someone asking them why they were on the couch when they initially went into Dimitri’s room. 

They rubbed their face, asking themselves what arrangement they actually deserved in this moment.

They lowered their hands, taking a deep breath. They had to go home.

They walked out into the night air, immediately cursing to themselves when they realized that they had returned their jacket to Dimitri several hours ago and it probably wouldn’t help their situation if they asked for it again. They continued to trudge home, staring up at the night sky.

The air was harsh enough that it made their eyes tear up. They grumbled as they wiped at them, only causing them to tear up more. It was an obnoxious cycle to be in, their vision clouding too much and making them stop for a moment.

They grabbed their phone from their pocket, winching when they realized that it was dying. Sure enough, there was a message from Caspar that said, “hey are you coming home? Its ok if youre not jw”

They took a deep breath, writing a response. “Be back soon,” was all they said, hitting send and continuing to walk forward. They only stopped once when they felt their phone vibrate, checking their phone and snorting when they saw that Caspar responded with a simple, “yay!”

Linhardt rubbed at their eyes again, grumbling when a few more tears rolled down their cheek. They wiped their fingers against their shirt, grumbling to themselves as they continued to walk. 

Why were they reacting this way?

They watched apartments pass by, trying to see if they could catch night owls going about their evening doing who knows what. Even after catching someone clearly on their laptop in a cluttered office space, they still found their mind wandering, a mix of excitement and fear to see Caspar again.

They stopped a block away from the Black Eagles house, bringing their arms over their head. They couldn’t tell if they were going numb to the cold or if they were just getting used to it, the world pausing for a long moment. 

They wanted to think rationally, but they couldn’t. There were too many emotions involved. They should have known that this would happen with matters pertaining to Caspar, but they couldn’t admit to it until this moment.

Linhardt brought their arms down, gripping their own shoulders. They were going to have to tell Caspar. Even if Caspar didn’t feel the same way, he was not going to be able to understand Linhardt pulling away or reconfiguring their dynamic otherwise. 

Linhardt hissed, realizing they were gripping their shoulders far tighter than they intended. At least their feet were willing to keep moving, walking toward the house. It appeared that the living room light was off, the only rooms that appeared illuminated being a few bedrooms. Caspar and Linhardt’s room was predictably one of them.

They fumbled with unlocking the door, opening it up and slipping off their shoes before they walked toward their room. Caspar greeted them excitedly, smiling widely.

“I’m glad you came back!” Caspar exclaimed.

Linhardt smiled, nodding their head. “Me, too,” they said, trying to resist revealing their teeth chattering.

*

As much as Linhardt hated that they were continuing to have things unspoken between themselves and Caspar, it was easier when they reminded themselves that it was temporary. No, they were not going to talk to Caspar as the two of them were alternating between avoiding assignments and drowning in them. They certainly weren’t going to bring it up when they were sitting in the living room with the rest of their housemates, Linhardt remembering how much they loved the Black Eagles house. If only because they weren’t constantly going through overwrought internal monologues longing for each other.

Linhardt still checked the server. The conversation with Dimitri was difficult, until they were spamming _Finding Nemo_ knock offs from Youtube and Dimitri was the only person awake, confused, but watching each link and providing reactions. Things were never going to be the same. At least, they really shouldn’t be. Hopefully at some point they were going to be able to have something better, whatever that was supposed to look like.

Until then, Linhardt grabbed a jacket from their closet. It was comfortable, paisley, and had an interesting enough silhouette that if anyone asked them which dead celebrity they were, they could bullshit an answer that was convincing enough. At the very least, they could probably say they were Oscar Wilde and people would believe them.

As for Caspar, he was hogging the mirror, his tongue sticking out as he pasted white numbers onto the front of his football jersey. He was apparently some dead athlete that sounded vaguely familiar to Linhardt, but most likely because they heard Caspar say it.

Caspar proclaimed that he was done and the two of them spilled out of the room, seeing Bernadetta sitting on the couch. She appeared to be in her pajamas, her Switch game playing on the television.

“You’re not coming with us to the Blue Lions party?” Caspar asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

Bernadetta shook her head, her eyes still on the TV. “No, I’m not feeling up for it,” she replied.

“Aw, you sure? I know everyone would love to see you,” Caspar said, leaning more of his weight against the couch. It made a loud groaning noise, Bernadetta jumping. 

“I’ll come over when it’s a quieter thing,” she said, turning away from the screen to smile nervously at them. 

It was enough for Caspar to stop bothering her. He got up off the back of the couch and Linhardt and he said goodbye to her before they walked outside.

It was another cold March evening, but Linhardt buttoned their jacket, burrowing their face into its collar, knowing they would be warm enough to get through the walk. 

Caspar walked ahead, swinging his arms forward and backward as he hummed loudly. Linhardt dawdled behind, content to listen to him. It felt like the closest they had to their form of normal in a long time, Linhardt not quite realizing how uneasy they had been until they realized how still their stomach was and how relaxed their jaw was.

Of course there was the inevitability of their jaw clenching again when they opened the door, which was unlocked, because of course it was. It stayed clenched when the two of them went up the stairs and were exposed to the Claude, Dedue, and Dimitri show, in which Linhardt had no idea who they were supposed to be dressed as and if they even were, but they had to look annoyingly good during it. 

It certainly didn’t help that Dimitri spotted them and walked over, affable and needlessly sweet as he brought his hand behind his head, bopping at his ponytail as he complimented Caspar’s choice. Because of course his father was apparently a huge fan of this player. Because that was the way that life fell into place.

When Dimitri walked away, Caspar put his hands on his hips and turned toward Linhardt. “I really wish I could hate him!” Caspar hissed, “But he’s just really nice!”

“I totally know what you mean,” Linhardt replied flatly.

They continued to navigate the party as a unit, falling into conversations with people and falling out of them when it felt like the topic was talked out, they floated to another group. 

Thankfully, Caspar, in all of his blustery ways, was content following Linhardt’s pace, not questioning when Linhardt decided that they were exhausted by all the contact and propped themselves up against the corner of the living room, taking a deep breath before they closed their eyes.

Caspar fit himself against them as best as he could, the loud crack of plastic popping in Linhardt’s ears. They never really understood why Caspar always tried to chew his cup. 

“Can I ask a serious question?” Caspar asked, “Have I done something that upset you?”

Linhardt opened their eyes. They frowned, leaning in closer toward Caspar. “Why would you say that?” they asked, already feeling like the reason didn’t matter if that’s how he felt.

“Oh, I dunno… you keep not really coming home,” Caspar said. He looked down at the ground with such sorrow that made a chill run down Linhardt’s spine. “I was just worried that I screwed up in some way.” 

Linhardt bit the inside of their lip, watching Caspar’s forehead wrinkle. They took a deep breath, looking around the room. The conversation was far too soft for them to possibly talk about this here. 

“Let’s go on the roof,” Linhardt suggested.

“Wait, you can sit on the roof?” Caspar asked. 

“Yeah, you can totally access it from Dimitri’s room,” Linhardt said, holding their breath for a moment. Thankfully, Caspar didn’t think anything of it, contently following Linhardt as they located Dimitri’s room and opened the door, making a beeline toward the window and unlocking it. 

The two of them scuttled onto the flat roof, the dark sky contrasting with the yellow floodlights and street lamps that dotted the street. They sat down as far away as they could from a window, keeping some distance between the two of them.

“I was avoiding you,” Linhardt admitted. Caspar’s face fell and Linhardt immediately leaned in, adding, “It’s not because I hate you. Quite the opposite.” They combed through potential words that they could use, knowing Caspar too well to know that if they botched it, then he would entirely misunderstand them. They cleared their throat and said, “I think I was avoiding you, because I have feelings toward you that might be romantic.”

Caspar’s face went blank. “R-really?” Caspar asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess,” Linhardt admitted. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to tell you about it…”

“I mean,” Caspar started. Linhardt wished there was better lighting to show his face. “It sounds like this is the opposite of what I was thinking.” 

Linhardt cleared their throat. “Yeah, it seems like it,” they said, “I hope it’s not… uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” Caspar asked, “No! I mean… I… I’ve been feeling. Kinda similar, I think. I was wondering if it was just, like. Things changing for me or whatever, but… I don’t think it is.”

Linhardt nodded. For one of the first times in their life they became scared to say anything. What if it was too good to be true? 

Caspar’s face went blank for a moment. Slowly, he tilted his head, his face tightening like he had something sour until it released into a massive grin. “Wait,” he said, “Like… you want to, like. Go on dates and stuff?”

Linhardt laughed. No, this was certainly reality. “Sure,” they said, “If that’s what you want.”

Caspar tilted his head to the opposite side. “Maybe. I’ve never been on a date before.”

“I don’t think I have either,” Linhardt admitted, “But we can talk logistics later.” They looked down at their hand, realizing that the roof was leaving black marks against their palm. They sighed, watching Caspar lurch toward them and they yelped, Caspar’s fingers against their face as he drew lines against their cheeks.

“I gave you whiskers,” Caspar said, laughing.

Linhardt glared, leaning in and smacking a quick kiss on his lips. Caspar took a sharp breath, leaning in and tentative kissing Linhardt back. Linhardt was ready to volley between each other, about to return one until they heard the window open up. Linhardt pulled back, looking up and barking laughing.

Caspar turned around, waving as Dedue and Dimitri slipped out of the window. “Hey, how’s it going?!” Caspar asked.

Dedue and Dimitri stared at them for a long moment, their fingers laced together. Not quite the one that Linhardt expected Dimitri to choose, though they supposed they were a bit biased because they knew Claude better.

“Oh! Well, it’s been quite the exciting night,” Dimitri answered nervously. Dedue rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips.

“Same here!” Caspar replied, “I just had my first kiss!”

“You did?” Dimitri asked.

“That’s wonderful news, Caspar,” Dedue added.

Both newly made couples settled. Linhardt frowned when they realized that Dedue and Dimitri remembered to bring a blanket with them, sitting down on it.

“You forgot to bring something to sit on, I suppose?” Dedue asked.

Caspar and Linhardt nodded.

“Want me to grab something?” Dimitri asked.

Caspar was about to turn down the invitation, shaking his head as Linhardt quickly said, “ _Yes_!”

Dimitri awkwardly let go of Dedue’s hands, bringing a blanket out and spreading it out next to him and Dedue. Caspar and Linhardt carefully walked toward it, Caspar trying to fit Linhardt between his legs. Linhardt leaned back against him, happy to have him warm and alive against their back.

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” Dimitri asked, bringing his arm across Dedue’s shoulder before pulling him close.

“It really is,” Linhardt agreed, smiling when Caspar’s arm wrapped around their waist.


End file.
